


Puppet Strings

by LuvvYahBabe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dark, Dark Loki (Marvel), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, I should be sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Manipulation, Movie: The Silence of the Lambs (1991), Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Loki (Marvel), Serial Killers, Stalking, Therapy, Unhealthy Relationships, this was based on the prodigal son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 14:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21078491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuvvYahBabe/pseuds/LuvvYahBabe
Summary: You didn't know that Loki was a monster. Only that he rescued you from the slums. Sure, he was possessive and had a strange sense of humor but you owed him your life. You didn't realize he was trapping you in his intricate cage until it was too lateXxxFour years after Loki's arrest, you find yourself back in his clutches. There's another killer on the loose following Loki's notorious crimes and setting their eyes on you. Now an Inspector on the rise, you find yourself in Loki's twisted grips as your forced to consult with him in order to save the life of an innocent teenager. This is the story of obsession, control, and perseverance.** ON HIATUS FOR THE TIME BEING **





	Puppet Strings

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first loki fic so I hope you enjoy! I hope this isn't too ooc or anything like that just be careful there will be some not so nice things in this so be warned! I just watched the prodigal son (and became obsessed) and this idea just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down

Your breath was caught in your throat when you saw ** _him_ **. 

Suddenly you were back in his immaculate birdcage, unaware that he has clipped your wings.

For being locked away for so long he looked irritatingly unchanged. The only difference being his shaggy hair and rough beard (something you _knew_ he was less than pleased about). However, his eyes remained just as mesmerizing. Just as paralyzing. Just as it was in your nightmares. 

A striking green that forced you still until he commanded you to come to life. Gleaming with a mischievous darkness that both terrified and captivated you. 

His lips sprawled into that devilish smile that seduced so many to their deaths.

He truly was Lucifer and he basked in it.

“Oh, just how I remembered” 

His voice, his intoxicating voice, you shivered despite yourself. It was just how you remembered it. It's surprising how violently it brought back a nostalgic aching that you had forgotten. It was rich with misdeeds and promises.

His eyes tracked your movements, shining under the flickering florescent lights like a predator encountering its prey.

But you weren’t his prey. Not anymore, not after- 

You square your shoulders, clenching your fist to stop its cursed trembling, and sat down with as much grace as you could muster. You didn’t shiver because of him, you reprimanded your rebellious brain. It's because maximum security doesn’t see the importance of indoor heating. That’s the reason. 

Of course, this boost of confidence proved futile since the insufferable metal chair screeched unholily loud across the tiled floor. He remained unfazed, stoic pleasant mask in place as he followed each movement with unsettling intensity.

Wincing at the sound you smiled nervously before catching yourself and returning to a look of what you hope was a resolve. Seeing him forced back all the habits you carefully learned under his hand, politeness being number one.

He seemed to grow in size at your mistake, his smile growing wider. It revealed his blindingly white teeth. 

He was a wolf proud in its form.

His eyes leered at you from head to toe, unflinching in their assessment. He knew he was setting you on edge and relished it. You _ despised _ the part of you that worried what his outcome would be. Still searching for approval in his sadistic emerald eyes. 

This unhelpful reaction spurred on you forward. You gritted your teeth. Rage inflating your chest, lifting up your nose and fueling your glare.

He quirked a brow at your expression, “you look as wonderful as ever”

“You look swallow, yellow _ really _ isn’t your color”

It was. Of course, it was. He commanded every color to suit him unfathomably well.

He paused, a flash of displeasure written on his face at your disrespect.

He frowned down at his prison garbs, “yes well, it won't be yellow for long”

While you opened your mouth to question such ominous words he cut you short. Expertly changing the topic the way he always did. 

“I always pictured this reunion you know. Of course you were more properly dressed, or undressed” his smarmy smile still remained disarmingly charming. Of course he only seemed to relish in your obvious discomfort, a wicked fire in his eyes. You could practically _ see _the carnal images playing in his head. Your cheeks blushed without your consent. “But of course I always imagined our reunion coming earlier, how long has it been?” At once the promise in his eyes turned dark. His tone was conversational, but you could feel his harsh disapproval.

You had to bite your lips to prevent the apologies from spewing out. The need to soothe him, reassure him, to prevent another punishment. They were embedded memories beaten into your muscles. 

_ Breath. _

_ In. _

_ You’re not in his cage anymore. _

_ Out. _

_ You escaped. _

_ In. _

_ You see him for the monster he is. _

_ Out. _

_ You don’t love him anymore. _

Clearing your throat to regain your composure, the mantra on repeat in your mind, you felt unsure with how unprepared you felt. Each blink you saw forbidden flashbacks assault you. None of the numerous therapy sessions could have made you able to handle this, to handle _ him _.

You went against your instincts and smirked meanly, unwilling to acknowledge the part of you that tried to emulate him.

“It’s been four _ wonderful _ years”

The darkness gleaned threateningly in his eyes while his smile remained unchanged.

“You cut your hair,” his tone was one of a question, his voice of one of ominous displeasure.

Your hands reached up to feel it on impulse, it was the first thing you did when you left. You wanted to feel empowered as you painfully slashed away at the long locks the police bathroom. However, all you felt when looked down at its scattered remains on the sticky floor was fear. Pure unadulterated fear of what his response would be when he found out what you’ve done.

Now, however, your fear only reminded you that you didn’t have to be that scared little girl anymore. That he was just the boogeyman locked in cuffs under your bed, nothing more and nothing less.

You tilted up your chin, a wide fake smile on your lips.

“I quite like it too.”

“Of course. You look _sublime_ little one, but I do miss braiding it every night” he pouted playfully while unbidden memories came upon you. You forgot about that. Fierce nostalgia overcame you for things you forced yourself to never think of again. Happy memories were far more dangerous than the scary ones. “Be polite dear” his voice like honey, reprimanding your silence.

“Thank you.”

You response was automatic, you winced once it was forced out. His smile only seemed to grow larger at your second mistake.

You avert your eyes unable to deal with his satisfaction. You looked down at your lap. The file was still resting there, now gripped tightly as the blood left your knuckles. You needed to regain your footing, you needed too-

“Ah I missed that, always so tidy”

You blinked not even realizing you were organizing the papers by colors. You thought you overcame that compulsion in therapy, he was trying to set back all your progress, he was-

“I didn’t have to teach you that, you already so _ prepared _ when I found you” his wistful voice snapped you into the present.

His eyes were once of victory, you hated it. You hated him. You would make him feel defeat. 

“You make me sound like a toy with batteries included,” your tone was sardonic. Not the sweet lull he forced you to address him with at all times. 

“Aww little one,” you glare deepened at the ‘endearment’, “I never saw you as my toy only as my-” 

“Puppet?”

You scowled harshly while he laughed, “yes, my little puppet” his eyes bright with memories. Oh how loved that term, oh how you hated it. 

He quirked a brow at your less than pleased reaction, “why so glum? I imagined our reunion being more pleasurable, for the both of us in fact” his outlandishly sinful smile would make a nun blush.

“It never was as pleasurable as you imagined” leaning forward you whispered with a taunting grin, “I’m quite the actress. I would know, you forced me to be”

Your face was harsh with the truth of the past. Of what he would make you do while he ki-

You were quite proud of yourself for not blushing before and even more so for not flinching at his current expression. The itching need to retreat festering inside you, you chose to ignore in favor of smirking at the vexation written on his marble face. 

“You're different,” he tasted the word with distaste.

“Thank you,” your smile only widened, “I should be. I paid a lot for those therapy sessions”

“But despite this new feisty persona and your costume” he looked pointedly at your black wardrobe (inspector badge glinting in the light) before looking at you with _ that _ look. The look that always managed to take your breath away with how _ real _ it felt. Like he actually meant it when he called - “you’re still min kjæreste”

You’re expression shifted of your own accord, you felt longing so profound you couldn’t prevent the tears begging to break free. Tears for a loss you wouldn't, _ couldn’t _, grieve for.

The sadistic monster looked at your with an sincerity you knew was false, with a sadness and yearning you so foolishly wished were true. 

But it wasn’t. That it was just a manufactured act, carefully chosen to pull at you. Maneuver you as if you were still his-

“Let’s cut the shit and get to the real reason why I’m here”

You were bizarrely grateful at the instant change as he glowered. He always was most displeased whenever you were to utter such unsuitable language.

Of course you still flinched, he was still an intimidating sight, but cursing made you feel exhilaratingly rebellious . It reminded you of your position and where you were. 

Breathing in deep you carefully selected out the pictures before placing on your interrogation mask, it was comfortable and well worn, reminding you of your mission.

“There have been other murders.” He hummed noncommittally at the news, donning his mask of regal neutrality. “It was one of your many disciples” 

“Well, I can’t help it puppet if I’m popular. You _ know _ the effect I have on others it’s a curse really” he pouted before sighing, “now, let's get back into more interesting topics shall we,” he peered devilishly under the table, “What type of under-”

“They turned their obsession onto me”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours with a frightening intensity. _Got you_. 

“Hmm?” he wasn’t playing coy anymore.

You reached over to place the victims’ photos onto the table, of course, your shoulder didn’t quite enjoy the sudden movement as it screamed in protest.

You thought you had hidden your discomfort but ever the predator, he instantly zeroed in on the injury.

“Show me” his voice was cold.

"No." You held your arm defensively, it starkly felt like once more you were back in-

“**Show me. Now. puppet**”

You complied immediately, you tried to convince yourself it was only to further your interrogation. The lie tasted bitter in your mouth.

You pulled down your shirt to reveal your painfully bruised shoulder. He clicked his tongue in distaste and hummed sympathetically. At his response, you found yourself, as if on autopilot, quickly lifting up your sleeve to show him the carefully hidden bandages.

You couldn’t meet his eyes, you couldn’t, you knew you would break if you did. You knew that he would be looking at you with protectiveness that you longed for, and you would succumb to things you-

“I would never let another touch you,” his voice was dark with strong possessiveness.

Gulping despite yourself you finally turned to look at him. He was still glaring murderously at your injured arm as if it were your attacker.

Shaking away all the unhelpful instincts screaming at you to retreat you coughed pointedly, proud of yourself for not shrinking when his eyes met yours.

“Are in a lot of pain little one,” His face was one of condescension, he looked as if you were a child showing him their scraped knees.

You scowled at your stung pride, taking comfort in you anger. 

“No,” it was an obvious lie, you both knew it. “But Mr. Parker might very well be”

You scanned his face for any hints as he obnoxiously feigned confusion at the name.

“He's the latest victim in a long line of kidnappings and murders. The victims,’” you pointed at the pictures, beaming _ young _girls and boys smiling up at you. Teenagers on the brink of adulthood, their innocence taken before they could even truly live. The outrage you felt for their stolen lives brought back courage you thought was forever lost in his presence. “Bodies were found in your hunting, they all share your mark”

He scanned the pictures with disinterest, it caused your rage to exponentially increase. It was a stark reminder of who he was, what he was.

“Pity, they were quite pretty little things” his tone was one of patronizing regret.

“They aren’t _ little things _,” you spat. “They were young boys and girls, brutally victimized by someone duplicating your disgusting crimes.”

He frowned, not at your admonishment on his word choice, but at your disrespect. Puckering his face, you knew his twisted pride didn’t appreciate his ‘art’ being insulted.

“Well, I’m locked in here” he lifted up his arms, rattling his chains with a smirk, they glinted under the fluorescent light, “so I don’t quite see what you hope to gain from speaking to me. _ Unless _ you are just using this as some ploy to see me. Ah, I knew you missed me. Don’t look too put down, it’s okay to admit your desires to me little one, I won’t tell your therapist. In fact I’m brave enough to admit that I missed you too my little puppet”

“I’m not your anything” you snarled.

“But you are,” there was such condescending authority in his voice that made you grit your teeth and clench your first. You wanted to rip out his smug eyes right out the sockets.

“_No_. I’m not. Not anymore, not since you got chained up like the _pathetic_ beast you are,” His terrifying expression tasted like victory.

“Puppet, I think you've been away for too long. You seem to have forgotten all of our lessons on how to treat your elders”

“You mean the lessons where you made me too afraid to even raise my voice, to say one thing out of line, to even sleep-”

“Well if you want to be dramatic and hyperbolic little one, then _yes_ those lessons,” he rolled his eyes, tilting his head and appraising you once more with a furrowed brow, “Those lessons were for your own good puppet. You were stealing scraps when I found you, you needed to learn proper etiquette and if you didn’t like my methods you were free to leave at anytime”

He smirked smugly leaning so close. His eyes shined mesmerizing bright with sadistic ridicule, “but you didn’t leave, did you? No, you stayed because despite whatever you want to believe in order to fit this victim narrative you’ve been sold you know the truth, you _ liked _ it. In fact, I distinctly remember you _ loving _ it and begging so sweetly for more."

You had to fight back bile rising in your throat, he was too close, the room was too small, you felt too-

“No,” you despised how small and _ demure _ you sounded.

“What was that little one, do speak louder” his face was feverish with hunger, he _ savored _your suffering.

_Breath._

_ In. _

_ You’re not in his cage anymore. _

_ Out. _

_ You escaped. _

_ In. _

_ You saw him for the monster he is. _

_ Out. _

_You don’t love him anymore._

“No.” you glared at him, his face insufferably unmoved. “I didn’t -” you shake your head to regain your composure, “I don’t feel anything for you. Not anymore. I’m leaving. You're of no use to me”

Standing up to leave you paused at the sudden shift in his expression before he was lounging like a king but now he looked-

“You’re _ afraid _” the revelation made you gasp. You found yourself sitting once more, it was so clear now. All his attempts to rile you up, to bring back the past, to make you feel helpless. You grinned widely at his sharp laugh.

“Ah my poor little misguided-”

“You’re afraid of me” you repeated once more, with savage joy.

“Now, it’s not polite to interrupt. We went over this before,” you ignored his attempts to bring up a past that would only weaken you, the truth keeping you strong, “but I’ll amuse you just this once little one, why am _I_ afraid of _you_?” 

His tone was drenched with snobbish amusement.

“Because you’re afraid I’ll leave.” 

You smiled wickedly at the quick flash in his eyes, so fast and small you almost didn’t see it but you did. And that’s all that mattered.

“You are!” you gapped surprised, while you did believe it, learning it was true was completely different.

“No. You’re afraid of me. Don’t forget that little one, you still and always will be afraid of me,” his voice was sinister in its calmness, his expression was one of pure danger.

However you found yourself unflinching, the therapy session culminating with one great epiphany. Funny how it took facing your monster that makes all those days of tears and self-hatred while you pretended to make progress under your dutiful therapist’s eyes click together.

“I am.” He quirked a brow at your response, seemingly as surprised by your response as you are. However, your face was pure relief finally understanding the point of those sessions. “I am afraid, and I probably always will be. But your _nothing_ to me. I see that now. You are only nightmares that will fade away. And when I get new lovers,” his dark possessive scowl made you preen, “yes, when I get _ many _ new lovers, friends and wonderful memories you will fade into the background. And you know what’s so beautiful in that? _ You _will be stuck here” you looked around the gray room and smirked meanly, “with guards and block mates who won’t worship you like the God you think you are. Living off the past because let’s face it fan mail can only do so much in this type of environment. You’re just a relationship in my past, an abusive and traumatic relationship, but just one of many”

You chuckled breezily meeting his eyes with no fear. Even as his face took one of eerie stoicism. 

The moment lasted for far too long. You opened your mouth to goat him-

**SLAM**

Your cry of shock was immediate as he banged his hands onto the table. His laughter hysterically echoing chillingly in the room.

He clapped his hands, the uncomfortable sound of the chains clacking together accompanying it.

“Oh little one I didn’t realize your talent for such poetry” he mocked patronizingly, eyes fierce with hunger. He assessed you with delight as if you were a new puzzle. You could practically see him lick his lips, you had forgotten how much he loved a challenge. 

“I do admit I was quite moved. But despite that _ lovely _ little speech my puppet, you will never be free from me. Even as you grow old with age you will always _ love _ me. That is something that will never fade I’m afraid. In your most secret moments, even when feeling ecstasy, I know it will be my fingers you think about. My voice whispering you. It will be _ me _you will want, I made sure of it” He was leaning so close, his smile so wide and bright.

It was as if he was there, a voyeur watching you and your many attempts to forget his excrutratingly pleasurable ministrations in the many nameless lovers you had after he was arrested. That was something you never told your therapist, or even admitted it out loud, too afraid it would crumble your already unsteady sanity. But of course _ he _ knew. He knew and he made sure you did too.

He was so quick to hurt you, to belittle you, to make sure you felt _ weak _, but not today. Not now. Not ever again. You didn’t need the mantra this time as you faced him head-on, his eyes growing practically famished at your display of bravado. 

“Maybe you're right. Maybe a sick part of me, one that you created, will always have this disturbed affection for you but I’m not in your cage anymore. I’m free, while you’re stuck in this one for the rest of your life. I’m free to find new partners who _ will _ help me forget your name and you will always be away”

His face was _terrifying_. However, even if you didn’t believe your words, you hoped they were real. And that's enough. You quickly left, not needing him to demolish this sudden wind of courage.

He tracked your movement’s like a predator, as you were about to reach the door, your eyes staring at your pale reflection in the black mirror he called out your name. 

You shivered despite yourself hearing it from his insidiously inviting voice. It sounded both as a taunt and a siren’s call. You turned your head without meaning too, his face unsettling in its calmness.

“I won’t talk little one”

But he couldn’t break you, not when you were this close to freedom.

“You will Loki,” you matched his predator smile with your own, “you will talk to the Inspectors or I won’t come back.”

You didn’t need to see his reaction as you felt his crazed laughed rattle down your spine.

Inspector Barton, Rogers, Hill and a few others whose names you had forgotten stared at you with painful concern. Even Inspector Romanoff seemed worried underneath her usual mask of stoticm. Your blanched face quickly ignited red with new vigor, you had forgotten all about them while you were traveled down memory's lane. 

“Are you alright?” The hard voice of Chief Inspector Coulson snapped you out of your mortifying stupor.

You nodded your head feeling the blood rush to your ears, “yes, of course, sir, sorry about er not following protocols.”

“It’s quite alright. This was very ... unorthodox I wanted to intervene but Supertintend Fury made it clear no one was allowed in until you were finished. I told him to not allow such nonsense but the pompous arse wouldn't listen, he couldn’t even come down here for the dirty work that-” he cleared his throat before smiling sheepishly, “but it’s alright dear you did wonderfully. Just take the day off.” As you were about to open your mouth to protest he frowned sternly, “I mean it, take today and tomorrow off or I will make you take the week off with paid leave”

You nodded meekly, feeling your eyes burn at the fatherly concern dripping in his voice. Bowing your head you felt him place a hesitant hand on your shoulder, “Barton and Romanoff, go in there and interrogate the Bastard”

You heard shuffling beside you, meeting the kind face of Coulson you smiled hoping to reassure him. However, you were sure it resembles more of a grimace as his frown only deepened. “I’ll just head to the loo before clocking out”

He nodded, his understanding face only serve to weaken you. It felt too much like that first night after Loki was arrested. Inspector Coulson kneeling in front of your trembling form, awkwardly rubbing your sobbing back as he made promises he couldn’t keep. You rushed to the lavatory. You forced your eyes to remain dry until you were blissfully alone.

Rogers tried to call out to you but you couldn't face him.

Only when you stared at your reflection in the fluorescent lights did you break down. Unwilling tears breaking their way through.

There was a girl weeping back at you through the dirty mirror. You were positive it was not your reflection. No, this was someone else. It was the weak girl from all those years ago.

Trapped and broken.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this isn't too ooc!! Also, I don't really know why I made this set place in England I just kind of see Loki as the jack the ripper/ Ted Bundy (who is American now that I think about it) type of person sooo here we are?
> 
> I hope Coulson hating on Fury wasn't too ooc!! I just figured he would be most likely to fight against him and also would be more protective over you (for reason's that will be explained) but don't worry this won't be an anti-nick fury fic (I love him too much for that!)
> 
> Please let me know of any grammar mistakes! English isn't my first language and I also should be sleeping so I'm sure there are many in here!! I will be sure to fix it! And I hope your reaction isn't too out of the ordinary! You are a tough BAMF and will fight against the manipulation but it will be hard! Also, I love possessive Loki (who doesn't).
> 
> If you have dealt with Sexual Trauma or abusive relationships and this story is triggering please don't read it! I don't want to cause you any pain at all! And please be sure to reach out for help if you can. I know it can be incredibly scary and isolating but you are not alone and people will be there to help you. RAINN is incredibly helpful and is willing to listen: 800.656.HOPE


End file.
